The SCP Experience - I Found a Strange Doll in My Attic, and Now My Life Has Never Been Better | SCP-2016

Episode Date: March 8, 2024

Want to listen ad-free? Try it FREE for 7 days here: patreon.com/TheSCPExperience SCP Foundation SAFE class anomaly, SCP-2016: I Found a Strange Doll in My Attic, and Now My Life Has Never Been Better This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-2016 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Cyrus Spears * * * DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #thescpexperience #scp #scpfoundation #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories #scpexplained #whatisscp Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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we love that we love. The box nearest to him and dragged it closer. On the top written in cursive

was dinner plates, although it did not feel nearly heavy enough for that. He sliced the rotted tape open with his box cutter and then plunged his hand inside. More clothes, he said. He yanked his hand out and slid the box towards his wife.

Rachel pursed her lips and shoved the box aside with her foot towards a separate section they had going. Donate, she said. I'm beginning to think that whole corner is just old clothes. Probably, Alex agreed. He grabbed another box and dragged it forward, coughing on a spray of dust that launched into the air. I guess we know why the old owners left all this stuff. The clothes aren't even anything good, Rachel huffed. She leaned over the box she was holding and pushed back a lock of brassy blonde hair that fell into her eyes. It's all stuff your grandmother would wear to church.

My grandmother? Alex smiled. He sliced open the next box and stuck his hand down. He did not even bother to read the labeling. This is clothes, too, I think. Wait. His hand hit something else. Alex pulled back the cardboard flaps to get her better look

and felt around inside, pulling out old clothes and sheets and thin dirty towels that smelled like mildew. I felt something. He looked up, feeling defensive. Rachel shrugged. I hope it's something good. She stood up.

Her knees popped as she moved, and when she pressed her hands against her lower back, it popped too. I'm going to get a water. she said. Do you want anything? Hmm? He looked up.

No, I'm good. He turned his attention back to the box. It was nearly empty, and he did not see anything that felt as solid as what his fingers had brushed against. But he was sure that he had felt something. He began to unravel the long towels and shake everything loose,

trying to be careful in case anything went flying. Maybe it's the matching half of that, Rachel smiled and pointed towards a blue satin heel they had found earlier. Then we could have a pair. Wouldn't that be something? Alex laughed. It had not felt like a shoe, but he was beginning to think he had imagined it. Rachel disappeared down the attic stairs and he kept digging. If he didn't find anything before she returned, he would consider it a bust.

He was elbowed deep in the box, his hand feeling around the cardboard bottom. When his fingers hit something, Excited, Alex dug his fingernails into whatever it was, and then latched on once he had it close enough to his palm. It felt like a crocheted doll of some sort, the kind his own grandmother used to make before she died. He tugged it free from the loose articles of clothing that were piled in the box. It was a doll after all.

He felt a surge of triumph at having been right. It had black little beads for eyes, and it was dressed like a wizard in a little knighted garment. robes were dark green and its cone-shaped hat matched. It had a long white yarn beard that went down to its stomach and only one knit shoe with a scraggly loose lace. The other shoe was missing. The whole doll was probably about a foot long, give or take a few centimeters. Alex caught himself staring at those black, beady eyes. They had gone all this time being stuffed into boxes and shoved around an attic without falling off or losing any color. They

twinkled when they gazed back at him, almost as if the doll knew something he didn't. Alex smiled to himself and used his fingers to untangle that long, messy white beard. Alex! Rachel's voice finally cut through his peace. Alex looked up, and the moment he broke contact with the doll's eyes, he felt like he had been asleep for hours. Yeah? He asked.

Oh, did you get your water? Yes, Rachel responded, staring long and hard at his eyes. face. I was down in the kitchen for like 30 minutes. Rebecca called. Have you been staring at that this whole time? No. He shoved the wizard doll back into the box. Even as he did so, his heart skipped a guilty beat. The other box was empty. This one is just more clothes. And the doll. Do you think the doll is worth something? Rachel asked. She was still looking at him strangely, but he ignored her concern. Not likely, he said. It's a bit dry-rodded and there are some stains. It's a shame, because someone obviously put a lot of time into making it. That is a shame, she agreed.

Most of this stuff is bad, actually. He'd nudged the box with his toes, so he wouldn't have to look at the doll again. We should just put it in the trash pile. That pile is getting pretty big, Rachel said as she helped move the box over. I think we'll have to make another dump run soon. For sure, Alex agreed. He could not stop thinking about the wizard doll. He wanted to lunge towards the box, open it back up, and yanked the doll out. He wanted to show Rachel to see if she could discern exactly what made it so special.

He wanted to take it downstairs and study it. It was just a little crocheted thing, but it felt so real. He would not be surprised if he said, saturday on his desk, and the thing started talking to him. You're crazy, he thought to himself. He should have taken her up on that water. He dragged a hand down his face and rubbed at the corner of his eyes. A whole week of moving, and they were just now getting started on the attic. It would have been much easier on them both if the previous owners hadn't abandoned so much shit. It felt like they were never going to get it done. Maybe we should take a break, Rachel said after a moment.

of sitting in silence. I think we should go get some dinner. What do you say? That sounds good. Alex cast one last look at the discarded box. I need some fresh hair. Whatever is up here is making me feel dizzy. It was the best way he could explain it.

Rachel flashed him a smile. Mold, probably, she teased. You better be careful. Maybe I should get us some masks to wear tomorrow. I don't know if it will make a difference. Alex brushed himself off as he stood up. That shit is already deep in our lungs by now. Rachel rolled her eyes and started back towards the attic stairs.

Alex followed, taking one last good look at the cardboard box. The doll was just inside. She wasn't looking. He could run back up and snatch it. He could have, but he didn't. Instead, Alex turned off the attic light and followed his wife downstairs. RBC Training Ground has discovered potential in over 20,000 Canadian athletes and counting. Your story could be next.

If you've got the drive, they'll help you find your path to the Olympics. Let's see what you've got. Sign up for free at rbc trainingground.ca. Alex woke up to a weird scratching sound. It was loud and obnoxious enough to pull him out of his sleep, which was weird because he felt like he had been sleeping pretty hard. He looked over and saw Rachel on her side with one leg, halfway hanging off the bed.

She was dead to the world with her cheek stuck to her new fluffy pillow. Alex smiled and pulled the bed covers up as much as he could so that she was not completely exposed. She looked so cozy, and he just wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her close.

Of course, now he was wide awake, and he was not sure he could go back to sleep if he tried. That scratching came again. It sounded like it was coming from down the hospital, hall. Alex made his way over to the bedroom door and grabbed the flashlight that was resting on his dresser. It was a weird, furious scratching. It sounded like a rat, honestly. He silently prayed that it was anything else. As much money as they had sunk into this house already, a rat problem

was the last thing they needed, not to mention that Rachel was terrified of them, and he was not sure he could handle her being on edge until the problem was eradicated. Alex pushed the lever on the side of the flashlight, and it slowly flooded the dark hall in front of him with bright white light. Alex started walking down the hall, moving the beam around as he searched for the source of the scratching. He got almost to the end of the hallway before his light fell onto something green. The sudden appearance of color sent him reeling, and Alex took a full step back. He moved his beam up through the air, trying to take in more of the spectacle before it moved. His heart hammered in his chest.

but for some reason he did not run. Standing in front of him was an old man, an ancient man. It was probably fair to say. He was wearing emerald green robes and had a long white beard that swept all the way down to his navel and ended in a big round curl. His merry dark eyes twinkled from underneath a set of hawkish white brows and the broad rim of a green wizard's hat. He was writing something on the wall, scratching at it with a fine piece of chalk.

He did not turn his head or acknowledge Alex in any way. He seemed entirely preoccupied with what he was doing. Alex cleared his throat, hoping that would alert the stranger and draw attention to his presence. The wizard kept writing. It was strange because Alex knew that this had to be an intruder, yet he felt no fear. And more than that, it felt right that the wizard was there. as if he belonged there, and Alex was the one tiptoeing around his house. I don't understand, Alex said.

He was not even sure he spoke the words out loud. He kept staring at the wizard, hypnotized by the old man's knobby fingers gripped around the chalk. Despite his age, the old man's hands were steady. They glided over the surface of the wall in lines and loops in patterns that were beyond, Alex's comprehension. And yet, when he tried looking at what was being drawn, he could not see anything. There was nothing on the wall. Or maybe it was that he could not quite get a good enough look.

He could not take enough steps forward to move around the wizard. It was like he was trapped behind glass. Am I dreaming? Alex asked. The wizard smiled, the piled up wrinkles in the corner of his mouth, making his entire face move. Yes, you are, the wizard said. He had a voice like an old, crackly piece of paper being balled up over and over again. And it is a wonderful dream, my boy, full of knowledge.

Knowledge? Alex frowed his brow. I cannot even see what you were writing. That is because you do not know how to read it. Not yet. The wizard finally turned his head. His dark, beady black eyes sparkled with knowing. Here, he extended the chalk towards Alex.

It was tall and blunt on one end, and still flat and crisp, as if it had not been used at all on the other. Use this, the wizard commanded. If you draw a rectangle, then draw a circle inside of it. All your dreams will come true. But this is a dream, Alex said, trying to take another look at the wall. Now that he was holding the chalk, he could see the circle. He could see the surface clearly. Everything down to that ugly floral paper that he and Rachel intended to tear down and repaint.

So it would be a dream within a dream? Doesn't that sound marvelous? The wizard asked. A dream so deep and with so much knowledge to unearth, you would never have to wake up. Alex laughed nervously. Strange, he said. I don't know.

I like to wake up from my dreams. The wizard gave him a hard, mean stare. The sudden change in disposition made Alex's heart drop into his gut. He wanted to run. He gripped the chalk in his fist and all but flew down the hall. He couldn't run fast enough. But he found that if he jumped, he could make it to the bedroom. Three good steps and he was back where he had been.

He could see Rachel in the bed still, and he could see himself. He was lying on his back with his arms stretched out by his sides. and his own face was as white as wax. Alex sat up and gasped. The shock of seeing himself asleep in the bed had been enough to wake him up. He clawed at his throat, suddenly desperately thirsty,

and gulped down another dry breath. He looked over at Rachel. She had not moved. He looked over at the bedroom door. It was open, and the hallway on the other side was pitch black. The flashlight on the dresser looked like it had not been touched.

Alex pushed his fingers against. his temples and groaned. There was a headache collecting on the other side, just behind his eye. He shifted to reach his water cup that was sitting on the bedside table and heard something clatter as it hit the floor. Alex's heart skipped a beat and he cursed under his breath. He hated that his own dream had left him so jumpy. Alex's hand trembled as he pressed the water cup against his lips and sipped. Once he had drank about half the liquid down, he placed the cup back on the table, and glanced at the floor to see what had made the noise. It was a piece of white chalk.

It had broken in half as soon as it hit the ground and lay in two neat pieces, almost parallel to each other. Alex was not sure how long he sat there staring at them, but as soon as he snapped out of it, he swept them back up and threw them into his bedside drawer. Alex did not feel like cleaning the next day. He told Rachel that he had a migraine

and that he was going to stay in bed. She said that was fine and told him that she was going to go see her friend Rebecca instead. He told her he loved her and that he hoped she had a good time. That part was true. The part about the migraine was not as true as it could have been. He did have a wicked headache, but he felt like he just needed more sleep. Alex sank back down underneath his blankets and rolled over onto his side. He pushed his head underneath Rachel's pillow, which was much cooler than his,

and it did not smell like sweat. He closed his eyes and lay there in the cool darkness for however long. He was not sure he actually slept, but just having the quietness was nice. He could not stop thinking about the chalk. Eventually, Alex sat up again and turned back to his bedside table. He opened up the drawer and rifled around until he found the chalk. He kept one piece and left the other for later before standing up.

It was daylight, but all the drawn curtains, in the house made it seem like it was still nighttime. Still in his pajamas and sleeping tank top, Alex walked out into the hall and rounded the corner, just as he had in his dream the night before. It was not until he reached the end that the feeling returned. There was no wizard anymore, nothing except an empty, ugly wall. Alex turned to face it and huffed, already chastising himself for taking the dream too far and coming up with a dozen reasons why he probably should just head to the kitchen and eat something instead. But he did not move.

His stomach was not even growling. He knew he ought to be hungry, but he did not feel like he was. The only thing he wanted, really, was to place that chalk against the wall. He tried to remember what the wizard had told him to draw. Was it a rectangle inside of a diamond or something like that? Alex placed the tip of the chalk against the wall. It could not hurt, at any rate. They were going to tear down the wallpaper anyway.

He did not know how he was going to explain it all to Rachel. He would figure that out later. A rectangle with a circle inside. The memory hit him as soon as the chalk touched the wall. Alex drew the shape that came to mind, starting as far up as his arm could reach and going all the way across. He drew the circle next. Something told him to put it farther down and to the right.

He followed his instincts and made a smaller circle. As soon as the circle came to a close, the wallpaper in front of him rippled. Alex felt a glow of triumph, followed closely by fear. Underneath the chalk's point, the circle bubbled out. It rose and transformed,

the flowers fading from the wallpaper and turning into dark bronze. The edges of the rectangle raised, and the paper tore away, revealing dark wood underneath. Alex tried to take a step back, but he could not move. He was rooted to his spot,

watching the rectangle become a door, and his hand was resting against the knob. I am dreaming again, he thought. There was no better, more logical explanation. His next thought was, well, if I am dreaming, I might as well open the door. He expected it to be locked, but it was not. The door sprang open as soon as he turned the handle.

Alex was greeted by a rush of warm spring air, which was odd, he thought, because they were still smack dab in the middle of winter. The door opened up to rolling green hills that stretched on as far as he could see. Over his head, there was not a single cloud. It was all faultlessly blue and blended seamlessly with the green horizon. Only one thing marred the perfect marriage between sky and earth. It was a tower, stark and gray, and it jutted through the atmosphere tall and browned.

Alex dropped the chalk that he was holding and heard it crunch underneath his foot as he took a step forward. The tower was enormous, magnificent, and he wanted nothing more than to go towards it. He did not know how long it would take him to reach it, but did it matter? This was all a dream anyway. His first instinct was to jump. Alex bent his knees and sprang into the air, delighted at how much ground he covered in a single bound. As soon as he hit the ground, he jumped again, and he laughed as he headed towards the tower. When Alex finally reached the tower, he landed in front of a break.

red door. It loomed several feet above his head, and the knob was pure gold. When he touched it, a sizzle of excitement coursed through him, and he could not help but smile even wider. He had been smiling since he got there. In fact, he had never been so happy. On the door was a note. It had been pinned there on an iron nail, driven right into the center of the painted red wood. Alex grabbed the bottom of the note and tugged it free, ripping it down off the nail. The words were cursive, or maybe they were in a language he did not understand. They twisted and squiggled across the paper until he could read them, which, in a dream, did not seem so strange at all.

To my new apprentice, the note read. Alex gripped the note excitedly until the paper crackled. The sound of it caving underneath his thumb reminded him of the old wizard's voice. and his stomach quivered with anticipation. Apprentice. Was he the wizard's apprentice? How long could he stay here? What could he learn?

It was no longer a dream. It was as real as the gold knob in his hand. When he twisted the knob, the tower door creaked open, and a world of wonder and knowledge opened up to him. It smelled like incense, like tonka and vanilla, and he could not wait to dive into all of it. When Alex entered the tower, the door slammed shut behind him.

He did not even mind. He found an iron staircase that spiraled all the way to the top, and he stared his way up. He kept the note pressed close to his chest the entire time. Alex's body was gray by the time Rachel found him. She had only been gone a few hours, and he was only thanks to his shallow breaths that she realized he was even still alive. She called 911, but the hospital could do nothing except help sustain. him in his coma. Half a dozen doctors gave their differing medical opinions as to what had happened,

but no one really had the answer. We will see what happens, was the best answer that anyone could give. In the meantime, she had to go home. She could not stay at the hospital forever. After six months, she gave up on unpacking the house. Her mother was convinced that the mold was what put Alex in the hospital, and they had the house fumigated. After a year, Rachel sold the house house and moved back in with her parents. After two years, she filed to have her marriage an old. She stopped visiting eventually, because nothing ever changed. Almost five years later, and the nurses were his only visitors. Everyone else had moved on, but Alex stayed asleep. The only thing that changed about him was his beard. It grew in, long and white,

and it did not matter how often the nurses shaved him. Seemingly overnight, it would be back in full force. The wrinkles around his mouth were always getting deeper, too. Because even in his sleep, Alex had never stopped smiling. SCP-2016-1 is a knitted doll resembling a human male with a long white beard and dark green robes, measuring approximately 32 centimeters in height. When humans enter REM sleep within 3 meters of SCP-2016-1, they will experience vivid dreams. In addition to this, subjects will also usually encounter SCP-2016-2. SCP-2016-2 appears as an elderly human male with the same appearance as SCP-2016-1. It is always capable of understanding the language spoken by the dreamer, though it is not capable of verbal communication.

These dreams always end with SCP-2016-2, handing the subject a piece of chalk and creating the subject a piece of chalk and creation, creating a wall while motioning for the subject to draw a rectangle with a circle inside on the surface of the wall. If the subject attempts to draw the shape indicated in the dream on the surface of a wall within seven days of having the dream, the drawing will transform into a door with a round handle. If the subject opens the door, it leads to an open meadow with a stone tower located a varying distance away. There will be a paper attached to the tower's door saying, to my new apprentice in the subject's native language. Said tower's floors contain several libraries and laboratories.

All subjects who have used these facilities have died in their sleep within five years. Cause of death is unknown, but all subjects have been reported to release a gaseous mass from their mouths which disappears seconds later. Video surveillance shows an elderly, translucent human male, similar to SCP-2016-1 and SCP-2016-2, approaching the sleeping subjects and absorbing the gaseous mass into his hand.